Goodbye Love
by musicexpresseswhatwordscan't
Summary: One-shot based on Goodbye Love from rent. With Grantaire's fate, secrets are revealed, people are fighting, Enjolras is leaving, and Eponine is found with a disease.


**Goodbye Love**

"Are you really leaving for Santa Fe?" Eponine asked Enjolras when he was finally alone at his table.

"I have a job opportunity that I don't want to miss out on. I can't stay," he muttered packing his backpack with his laptop and notebooks.

"Did you really give your starting law firm to some stranger you aren't even sure is capable of—"

He turned sharply to her, leaning down so his eyes reached hers. Enjolras was six feet, and then there's the malnourished girl of 5'3. Blue against brown. Enjolras examined the dark circles under her eyes showing years of experience and hard work.

"Did YOU really hang out with this yuppie scum?" he nodded towards Combeferre. Attention was slowly drawn to the two people.

"Eponine, I thought you said you wouldn't talk to him again," Combeferre asked her, approaching her and holding her shoulders.

"Not now, 'Ferre," whispered Eponine.

Musichetta joined the conversation, "Who said you can tell her who she can talk to?"

"YEAH!" Enjolras agreed. Slinging his bag around his shoulders and gauging her reaction.

Joly scolded Musichetta, "Who said you could stick your nose in other people's busine—"

"I wasn't talking to you!" Musichetta spat at him. He wiped it off his glasses, glaring at her.

"You got your spit all over me!" Joly screeched.

"And here comes Dr. Hypochondriac!"

"Well, at least I'll be healthy while you suf—"

"Guys, cut it out!" Bossuet tried, throwing his arms out, and knocking over a glass or two on the crowded bar.

"You never took this relationship seriously! You never tried to look past my faults and always judged Bossuet and me!" Joly pointed out.

"He," Eponine glared at Enjolras, "He was the same! He was always run away, hit the road, don't commit! You're full of shit!" Running into him, she pounded on his chest, releasing her anger until he couldn't take it anymore. He held her wrist, feeling the pain echo through not only his body, but his soul too. He didn't want to do this to her. His head said no, but his heart said yes. He needed the job though, and where did listening to your heart get you? Nowhere.

"Enjolras! Watch your temper! Good god!" Combeferre warned, holding Eponine in his arms.

"She's in denial," Joly told everyone, watching as Musichetta rolled her eyes, turning her back.

"So is Marble Man!" Eponine agreed.

"You gave an inch, but I gave a mile!" Joly told Musichetta.

"I gave a mile!" Eponine told everyone.

"Yeah? To who?" Enjolras asked her.

"You know what, Apollo? I'd be happy to die for a taste of what Grantaire had! Someone to live for and who wasn't a wuss! Someone who could actually say 'I love you!'"

"And you expect me to love someone who doesn't even love herself?!" Enjolras pushed her.

Jehan started screaming, "YOU ALL PROMISED TO BE COOL TODAY! PLEASE! Please—" He pleaded, slowly sobbing.

Cosette approached him, letting his head rest on her shoulder. Jehan moaned into her blonde hair, "He's gone! But he promised! R! Please, come back! Why? Why did he go? And 'Jolras, why do you want to go? I can't believe my only family is dying!"

Jehan stumbled over to Enjolras. "He tried to show you love," he turned to Eponine, "He was your first true friend who understood your pain." Then to everyone, "He was there for support, comic relief, and to some of us even more. Yet, you all still seem to not have learned the lesson he tried to teach."

No one spoke, giving the steaming poet some air. Enjolras was the first to break the tension, walking out the door of the Musain. Not a glance was spared for the others. Slowly, the friends left one by one.

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Courfeyrac came home to the sight of Enjolras packing half of his things. Courfeyrac put down his phone, stopping Enjolras in his act by latching on to his arm.

"Courfeyrac, I need to find one case of glory. Let me go. I have too much to think about right now," Enjolras complained.

"Are you thinking about her?" Courfeyrac asked, not letting go.

Enjolras turned his head, not facing Courfeyrac. "How could she?"

"How could you let her go?"

"You don't understand… How could we lose Grantaire?" Enjolras shook his head, packing books into his bag.

"Maybe you will see why once you actually pay attention, Enjolras! Stop burying all your pain in your work! Don't let R die in vain!"

"His death is in vain!"

Courfeyrac stood with disbelief. "The whole reason he died was because of you! He loved you, and yet you still choose to mock him! But Enjolras, hey, this is what you've always wanted! To save others! Well, looky here! Superman comes and kills the day instead! You still have Eponine. You could've at least tried."

"Eponine doesn't want charity or pity."

"But she does want to be loved!" Courfeyrac explained exasperated.

"So do I! Do you really think I can love someone, though, who cheats?" Enjolras countered.

"Yeah! 'Cause you love someone, including their flaws."

"Says the person who can't even love." Enjolras stomped to the other end of the apartment, grabbing a photograph of him and Eponine, subtly sliding it into his pocket.

Courfeyrac froze, keeping his back to Enjolras. "What are you talking about?"

Snorting, Enjolras explained, "Who is always coming home from the bar with a girl on him, huh? Who beds a girl every night? Just another dent in the bed, and later she's all forgotten about. At least when I'm in pain, I don't inflict it on others."

This time Courfeyrac scoffed, "What pain is there to feel?"

"The fact that you'll always be alone, no one to love you. Who would want a guy who has screwed so many girls, only to ditch them later on? You have a history, Courf."

Courfeyrac turned to face Enjolras, tears revealed. He knew, even if it was a bit exaggerated, Enjolras was right. Who would want someone like that? But Courfeyrac wouldn't let him have the last stab. "Eponine still loves you. Are you really jealous? Are you afraid she's _weak?"_

"Eponine isn't weak. She's just fine. It's how she always looks."

"Yes. Because someone who has been well fed for five years now is looking thinner than usual. That's normal."

"She did look a bit pale…"

"And where are you heading? Oh, yeah, Santa Fe."

"Where are you heading now? Oh right, the bar. Wash the problems away like R." Enjolras grabbed his one suitcase and backpack. Grabbing his car keys, he slipped on his red hoodie.

Before strutting out the door into the hallway, he turned his head to Courfeyrac. "I'll call and facetime."

"If people want to talk to the guy who ditched the town, sure. Go, run away like you always do." He seated himself next to the window, not looking at his best friend.

Enjolras looked at the apartment one more time, and then at the depressed Courfeyrac. He unlocked the door, ready to head out. As he walked, he past the shadow most commonly known as Eponine.

He sighed. "You heard?"

She looked at as much of him as the light allowed her. "Every word."

He began walking down the stairs, carrying his things with him. Eponine followed his steps.

"You don't want baggage without life time guarantee, and you don't want to watch me die. I just came to say: Goodbye love. Goodbye my love."

Enjolras shook his head, not looking back. Eponine stopped, realizing her attempts at trying to make him stay were useless. She watched his form disappear down the stairs and through the door. Combeferre ran up the stairs in his place, ready to lend a comforting hand. Instead, Eponine stumbled back.

She hadn't cried yet, but they were coming in. A wave of sorrow washed over her. She was able to breathe out, "Please don't touch me. I have to go."

"I know a clinic!" Courfeyrac offered above her.

"A rehab?" Combeferre asked next to him.

"Can you please?" Eponine looked at them, begging for once in her life.

"I'll get it," Combeferre nodded.

Eponine rushed to her apartment below Courfeyrac's and closed the door, sobbing now that she was alone. She was alone again, helpless. She ran to her window, hopeful for one last glimpse of the golden haired boy who had become so much to her.

"Goodbye love. Goodbye. I'm sorry. I love you Enjolras…" She whispered as she reached for Enjolras through her glass. His car drove away without ever turning around.

"Goodbye, goodbye," and grabbing a paper with information on it, she opened it for the tenth time that day. She was tested positive for HIV/AIDS. Her eyes filled with tears once again despite her trying not to. Lifting her sleeve up her arm, she saw the first of black spots that resembled bruises. "Hello, disease…"

**A/N: How was that? This story was based on Goodbye Love from rent. I had to change a bit of the words to fit the scene. It's a little one-shot.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**-Franky**


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